


Chemical Reactions

by KarmicCombustion



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Friendships, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Older Varian (Disney), Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmicCombustion/pseuds/KarmicCombustion
Summary: By just about any standard, Varian is a genius, and one with a bright future. An ambitious chemistry major by day, and a savvy bartender (or so he thinks) by night, he's living the best life he can while proving he can make it on his own. The last thing he expected to throw a wrench in his carefully calculated design is an entirely different kind of chemistry.
Relationships: Varian (Disney) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This spawned entirely from a simple AU idea that took on a life of its own. I'm just creating the wholesome content of my perfect boy that I want. Hopefully it's enjoyable to others too!

Ambitious. That’s what he’d always been called, and not without warrant. Varian had always had goals, always had a plan and a vision for his future. But the problem with plans is that they seldom go as… well.  _ Planned _ . He thought by now he’d be a fresh college graduate and a working, functioning member of society, just like he'd always promised his dad. Things had taken a couple of detours though, as things often do. 

Not long after graduating from high school, his dad got stationed to work overseas, leaving him to fend for himself. In retrospect, he supposed he could’ve tagged along. That being said, there were plenty of reasons he hadn’t. For starters, being uprooted and forced halfway across the world was probably the worst thing for him at such a critical juncture of his life. Another admittedly less reasonable factor was that he’d wanted to prove to his dad he could be independent. That he didn't need to be sheltered or coddled anymore. That he was a capable adult, one his father could be proud of.

That turned out to be harder than he’d expected. As if college wasn’t challenging enough, he also had to hold down a job that could cover…  _ everything _ . Apparently living was expensive. So his degree had been forced to wait as he hopped from one job to the next, never quite finding the right fit. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn’t matter whether he’d stayed or gone: either way, his plans would’ve taken a sharp left turn. 

The last place he’d expected to end up was a lively bar downtown, and the week after his twenty-first birthday no less.

He’d started small, as most entry-level young adults did; it was mostly janitorial or repair work, but he liked the rest of his coworkers enough to stick around. Rapunzel (yeah, that was her real, actual,  _ legal _ name) was a chipper, friendly waitress that always made time to check on him and help however she could; Cassandra was a reliable, if not stern bouncer who had an older-sister kind of vibe to her, and for a single child like him, it was oddly comforting; last was Eugene, a flippant and narcissistic man, but with a good heart. He was the main bartender, and he soon became Varian’s mentor.

Before Varian knew it he was promoted from handyman to barback, and it didn’t take much longer to become an official bartender himself. He learned quickly, and seemed to have a knack for finding the best balance of ingredients and flavors for any given drink or cocktail. His new tips and hourly pay amounted to enough for him to live off of even at three, maybe four days a week, maximum. Finally he’d found a job he actually liked,  _ and _ one that could support him on few enough hours to go to college.

So he was a bit late to the party. Really late… big whoop. Better late than never, right? After about four years of scrambling and fumbling through life, now on the cusp of turning twenty three, he was officially getting back on track. Satisfaction and pride welled up in him when he got his long-awaited acceptance letter. With his impressive scholastic records, it wasn't hard to find a place at the modest community college in his hometown. Just a few more weeks, and his plans would resume.

Suffice to say, he was in a pretty chipper mood that whole month of July. Even the most unruly customer or the occasional clumsy accident (as he was prone to) couldn’t dampen his mood. One Friday night, on an oddly slow start to the weekend, a group of girls all came in together, though that wasn't entirely unusual in itself. They were "greeted" by Cassandra at the door, got their IDs checked, and went to go find a table. All except for one.

Among the group of girls, she stuck out a bit, even before making a beeline for the bar. Even after taking a seat, she made no attempt to flag him or Eugene down for a drink; needless to say, that was unusual. She hardly even looked up from the wood surface as she hunkered down on a stool. He glanced briefly between her and the group she’d walked in with, and it wasn’t hard to put two and two together: he’d seen his share of begrudging designated drivers, after all. With a glance around the bar, mostly empty aside from a few patrons who’d already been served, he made his way over to her.

“Need anything?” he asked mildly, drawing her quick gaze. He smiled in a friendly way, and hopefully in one that came across as cool and collected. Despite himself, he couldn't help but stare a moment when she finally looked up at him. 

He couldn't deny that she was pretty, but in a modest, understated kind of way. Fair skin, a soft face, and sea green eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. She wasn't wearing much makeup, if any at all, and was dressed casually, unlike a majority of her party. Yup, definitely did not want to be there. Still pretty though.

He silently chided himself for thinking that; Cassandra had warned him on more than one occasion that he was a bit too quick to jump on the infatuation wagon, but he hadn’t really taken her seriously. Maybe she had a point after all.

The girl quickly looked away and shrugged in response to his question. “Not really. I’m-”

“I already know. DD, right?” He chuckled at her quiet bafflement, raising a sly brow as if to assure her that he’d been at this long enough to read a room well. “I can at least get you some juice or something. We  _ are _ a full-service bar, so you’ve got a whole menagerie of options.”

“Ha.” It almost sounded like a scoff, but her expression had lightened a bit, a tiny sliver of a smile forming on her lips. “Menagerie. Nice choice of words.”

He hoped the heat in his face wasn’t as visible as it felt. Keeping his cool as best he could, he smiled back without parting his lips and got as close to “suave” as he could manage. “So? What’ll it be, mil-”

“If you call me milady, I’m totally bailing,” she laughed, interrupting him mid-sentence. “I’ll just have a coke.”

“S-sure thing.” He cursed the slight crack in his voice, something he’d never quite outgrown. That, and the little gap in his slightly buck teeth that he usually tried to hide behind closed-lipped smirks. If only he’d stuck with that damn retainer. “I’m Varian by the way.”

He filled a glass for her and slid it across the bar’s surface; she caught it easily against her palm before daring to offer her own name. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something very… inviting about him, as much as she tried not to fall for any of it. People only ever let others see what they wanted them to, after all. “Audrey. Good to meet you.”

His mouth opened to reply, probably to try and coax some kind of conversation out of her, but before he got a chance he was called over by another customer. He tilted his head in an apologetic, “I’ll be right back” kind of gesture. While his attention was occupied, she took the chance to study him, as subtly as possible. He was fairly tall, maybe just short of six feet, and a little on the gangly side. Not incredibly skinny, but he definitely was all limbs. It made her measly five-foot-two-inches laughable.

He had a cute face, that much was undeniable. Freckles, bright, baby blues, a gentle jawline, and all perfectly framed by long, black fringe. Black, save for the grey-blue streak in his bangs. She guessed that it was probably dyed and fading out from its original, more vibrant color. He was dressed comfortably, but definitely not without a little effort. A crisp button up over a v-neck tee, fitted jeans and a pair of red Chuck Taylor’s. Even his apron looked good on him.

Yeah, he was cute. That sucked. She nearly groaned, even face-palmed when she came to terms with the fact, forcing herself to turn away and begin to stand; no use sticking around and risking actually getting to  _ like _ the guy. When she got up, she was only met with something cold and wet spilling all over her front. A growl caught in her throat as she threw her gaze up at whoever had knocked her soda all over her.

The commotion had caught Varian’s attention, naturally; he was always acutely aware of what was happening around him. He had to be. The girl he’d met was standing up, her shirt and jeans freshly drenched in the drink he’d just served her. The culprit was a young man, probably about their age. Varian didn’t recognize him, which was saying something. He was pretty good with faces, and had a catalog-like recollection of all their customers. Come to think of it, he'd definitely never seen her before either.

He was about to hurry over and make sure everything was okay, but duty called him away once again. Casting a wary glance in the girl and the stranger’s direction, he sighed softly to himself. No worries: he could multitask.

“What the hell?” she hissed at the stranger, looking down at the mess he’d made. "At least you managed to get it all on me. Saves whoever would've had to mop up a bit of heartache." Snark notwithstanding, the remark was somewhat well-meant. They probably had enough cleaning to do as it was without this moron making a sticky mess on the floor.

“Sorry,” he replied quickly, holding up a placating hand. “That was totally my bad. How about you go clean up, and I’ll treat you to another one. It’s the least I can do.”

Varian immediately didn’t like where that was going, his ears perked all the while. Surely she wouldn’t fall for-  _ okay _ . Apparently she  _ would _ . With an indignant sigh, she turned around and headed for the lady’s room to do exactly as he’d suggested. Of course Varian was surprised, but he supposed not everyone was as inundated with the cautionary bar etiquette that he was all-too familiar with. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do much yet; not without catching the guy red-handed.

He watched Eugene serve the stranger a new glass out of the corner of his eye. It didn't escape his critical eye when the stranger turned his back to the both of them to hide the glass and his hands. Not exactly subtle, but it wasn't enough to prove his poor intentions. When the door the lady’s room opened back up, he kept a careful watch as Audrey rejoined the man to spitefully claim her fresh drink. Just as she started to pick the glass up off the bar, he found his opening to intervene.

“Don’t drink that,” he warned, fishing around in one of the pockets of his apron to pull out a small tablet, almost like an alka seltzer, and quickly dropping it in the glass before either of them could protest. As the capsule dissolved, it discolored and clouded the coke, therefore proving what Varian had expected. “Figured as much.”

Without missing a beat, he hollered for Cassandra to come to the bar. With the small crowd and minimal noise, it was easy to get her attention. She strode over, collected and severe as ever, and took one glance at the glass before not-so-politely escorting the man out of the bar. Varian couldn’t help but grin proudly at his handiwork, even if it did show off his teeth.

“He was gonna drug me?” When he turned his head to look at Audrey, she seemed caught deciding between looking at him, and looking at the fogged beverage in her hand. “How did you-?”

“Experience. My question is, how did you  _ not _ ?” he asked with a slightly quirked brow, dimming down his smile a bit. “Bar safety 101: never trust a stranger with your drink. You’re lucky I was here,” he added, his voice bordering on coy.

If not just to avoid giving into his charm, even if it was a bit on the goofy side, she rolled her eyes and shoved the glass back in his direction. “I don’t usually go to bars. Hence my lack of ‘ _ experience _ ,’” she retorted flatly, but still couldn’t help glancing at him as he dumped the soiled drink down the nearest drain and set the glass in the sink to be washed. “So, are those little pills standard? I guess all bars have them?”

That was exactly the query he’d been hoping for. He perked up, raising both brows and offering another not-so-suave smile. “Nope! That little chemical marvel is a concoction of my own  _ personal _ design. One of a kind,” he bragged in as moderate a tone as possible. He didn’t want to have Eugene levels of ego after all. “Cassandra -that's the security lady- knows what to look for too. After all, I can’t very well get guys like that kicked out without any proof. So I  _ made _ proof.” He crossed his arms and straightened his posture boastfully. “ _ Yeah _ , you’re welcome.”

“Knock it off,” she snickered dismissively. “I know you must think I’m dumb after that, but I’m not.”

Any aires of smoothness he'd put on faltered when she said that, and he held up both hands and shook his head. “N-no, I don’t-... that’s not-” Damn it, she’d gotten him  stuttering, and once it started it didn’t easily stop. “I-I really did invent it, I swear,” he finally managed to spit out. “Honest. I’m a chem major, o-or at least, I will be.”

Skeptical as she was, she was at least willing to humor him. “Okay, then why not get someone to mass produce it? If you have as much ‘experience’ with that kind of thing as you imply, then I’d think that’d be a pretty big deal. Everyone would want it.”

At that he couldn’t help but snort out a dismal laugh. “If only it were that easy. First I’d have to get someone to listen to me,” he reasoned, shrugging with a certain bitterness rooted in the stiffness of his movements. “And that won't happen without some kind of diploma. For now, I can at least make use of it here.”

She hummed thoughtfully, tapping her finger rhythmically on the table. “So… say you  _ did _ invent that stuff,” she began, “hypothetically speaking: how’d you do it?”

“Well…” At first he trailed off, steeling himself to do something that was either brave, or just incredibly stupid. He couldn’t decide which before blurting it out. “If I told you, you probably wouldn’t come back to see me again. I’ve always heard you should leave ‘em wanting more.”

He’d entirely expected to get shot down faster than a clay pigeon, but to his surprise she let out a reluctant laugh. “Are you always this corny?”

Apparently he needed more lessons from Eugene in the debonair department. A meek laugh of his own cracked in his throat, one that he silently loathed. His carefully constructed persona was faltering. Keep it together, man. “Depends on what your definition of corny is, I guess.”

She thought his ultimatum over for a moment, looking back to her group and continuing to drum her slender fingertips on the bartop. When she finally did turn back to him, there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes that he was obviously trying (and failing) to mask. This was a bad idea, she told herself as she shrugged.

“I’ll think about it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up switching it back to how it was originally written (with an OC), so you might consider re-reading the first chapter for any changes if you haven't already done so. Enjoy!

Varian couldn’t honestly say he was surprised when he didn’t see Audrey’s face among the bar's patrons the next night. Or the night after that. Or the night after that. While Eugene had congratulated him on his “gutsy move,” that didn’t make him feel any less foolish. She’d probably gone home and laughed about him with her friends. That was fine, he’d convinced himself. He was used to that kind of thing.

As the week passed, his mind became occupied with other things (more important things), so he found it easy to push any memory of the girl aside. After all, he had prepping and planning to do. He’d already moved all his stuff into his new dorm room, so that gave him the opportunity to begin brushing up on his oncoming curriculum. A head start never hurt anybody, after all.

Yup, by the time he’d made it to his very first day of the semester, he’d managed to push the encounter out of his mind entirely. Just another Friday night logged in the books. At least, that's what he'd thought until he saw a familiar face as he walked into his algebra class. Just his luck. After thoroughly humiliating himself the last time he’d seen her, he couldn’t help but hunch his shoulders and duck his head down, as if that could hide him from her line of sight. If he was lucky, she might not even notice-

“Hey.” He froze in place when he heard her voice, turning in her direction as she sat up in her seat. “You’re the guy from the bar, right?” At first he deflated:  _ the guy from the bar. _ Not exactly a grandiose title, was it? However, he perked up a bit when she continued. “Varian, right?”

She remembered his name.

Admittedly, she’d found herself thinking about him over the last several days before the semester began, as hard as she’d tried not to. At first she hadn’t even recognized him: his hair was messier, a pair of square-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a bulky hoodie partially concealed his gangly physique. Even his posture was different, and just the entire way he carried himself. It was definitely him though: the faded-blue stripe in his hair confirmed it.

“Ah, uh… yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Audrey, right? How’re you holdin’ up?”

Before she could think better of it, she gestured to the empty desk beside her and raised her brow expectantly. “Why don’t you ask me that when you’re not halfway across the room?”

A spark of his confidence surged back to the surface upon hearing that offer. So he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself after all? He grinned lopsidedly and climbed up the short set of stairs to one of the upper rows of the classroom, then slid in beside her and set his backpack on the ground, only to repeat his question.

“So, how’re you-”

“Good,” she cut in with a good-natured swipe of her hand through the air between them. “What about you? Save any other damsels in distress?”

He shrugged stiffly, unsure of how to answer that at first. “Hah, yeah… I guess you could say that,” he admitted awkwardly, clearing his throat and ruffling a hand through his bangs. “So, uh- pretty funny we’re at the same school, huh? And, uh… th-the same class. Go figure.”

She smiled patiently. “Yeah,” she agreed, crossing her arms over the top of her desk and making the mistake of meeting his eyes. They were so pretty, pale and blue, nearly reflective. Even his glasses couldn't disguise their soft shape or his feathery lashes. She had to try hard not to physically shake herself back to her senses. “Who would’ve thought?”

So far so good. Or at least as good as could be expected. Against all odds, he was starting to believe he could actually pull this off. Time to up his game. He tried to straighten himself up, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back in his seat a bit. “Y’know, you couldn’t have chosen a better person to sit by,” he began, rocking back and forth to try and simulate some kind of swagger that he clearly didn't have.

“Is that so?” Her brow raised, her expression caught somewhere between patronizing and intrigued.

“Yup. You should know, I’m kind of a genius with this sort of thing. Math and science are my bread and-  _ augh! _ ” His cocky seating choice did little to aid him in the “coolness” factor, and instead landed him flat on the floor as he got a little too comfortable with his prior position. He groaned and rubbed his lower back, a bit sore from breaking his fall.

She couldn’t help it; she tried hiding her soft snickering, covering her mouth with her hand. That wasn’t what made Varian heat up with shame though. He could tell by the look in her eyes she didn’t mean any harm by it, but the same couldn’t be said for the reactions of their fellow classmates. He tried hard not to imagine how ridiculous he probably looked, scrambling to his feet to right his chair and plop back down in it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, though she still couldn’t quite suppress her strained laughter. “I’m not making fun of you, I promise. That was just-...”  _ Cute. _ She stopped herself before the word slipped out, and swallowed it back down. “Funny.”

_ Funny _ . Awesome: as if he needed to feel any more blood rush to his face. He probably looked like a strawberry, all red and dotted with freckles. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he managed to laugh in return, but the sound held no humor. 

She frowned, but before she could right her verbal wrong, their professor entered and hushed the class by snapping the door shut. By that point, Varian seemed more than happy to bury his nose in his notes and his textbook and just pretend he didn't exist, but she couldn’t help noting the subtle frown he wore, just barely visible out of the corner of her eye. Throughout class, she kept glancing over at him, and occasionally their eyes would meet only to simultaneously break contact.

By the end of class, he was more than ready to pack up his things and get the hell out of dodge. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her, or because of the whispers and sniggers already spreading through their class. Spite didn't die with high school graduations, apparently. Despite his hurry, she managed to catch up to him before he got out the door and grabbed him by his sleeve. His eyes were owlish and puzzled as he looked down at her, lips parted in an unspoken question.

Damn it. Even his gap-tooth was cute. 

“Varian,” she huffed, a little winded from her own frantic rush. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave thinking she’d been mocking him like everyone else. “Look, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry that I upset you.”

He blinked down at her, brows raising high and jaw dropping a bit. “Upset me? N-no, that’s not it,” he reassured her, loosening her hand from his sleeve and willing himself not to let the contact of their palms linger too long. “I was just… embarrassed, I guess. Not exactly a new feeling to me. It’s fine, really.”

She smiled softly, but before she could say anything more they were interrupted by another boy pushing past her and squashing his meaty hand down on top of Varian’s head. Tall as he was, their peer still seemed to loom over him.

“Nice landing up there, spaz.”

Varian shrunk down to quickly duck out from under the other student’s hand and take a few defensive steps back. “Seriously? I’d figure people had better things to do by now than to pick on the obligatory nerd in class. Can you even  _ get _ more cliche?”

Before the confrontation could escalate any further, Audrey stepped in and took Varian by the arm to tug him out the door and into the already-crowded hallway. “We should get to class,” she interjected, all but dragging him away. Once they were out of the danger-zone and well out of earshot, she turned to him with a haughty expression. “What were you  _ thinking _ ? That guy would’ve totally-”

“I’m too old to put up with that kind of stuff,” he explained with a nonchalant roll of his eyes. “If I don’t stand up for myself, nobody will.”

That honestly surprised her, but certainly not in a bad way. It was actually kind of amazing how quickly he could bounce back from… well. Just about anything apparently, at least as far as she’d seen. He’d gone from sheepish and sweet to bold and snarky in a single breath, even if he didn't exactly have the stature to back it up. She supposed versatility was an important survival tactic.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” she admitted, managing a careful smile. “Just… try not to piss anyone else off today. I’d hate to get dragged into a fight with you.”

“Ha,” he chuckled lightly, “you’d fight with me?”

“Not well.”

The two shared another short bout of laughter, one that instantly relaxed him after the brief conflict. “At least I know someone’s on my side. That’s a rare commodity.”

Her bemused smile faltered, as she found that hard to believe. A rare commodity? Why? He was sweet, genuine, funny (even if by accident), and obviously smart. Granted, he could be a bit cocky as well, but even that came across as more amusing, even charming, than obnoxious. She would’ve thought making friends would be easy for someone like him. 

Instead of voicing her skepticism, she just nodded and hugged her arm, casting her gaze sideways. “Yeah, I get that.”

Great. He’d made things awkward again. He was going to try and lighten the mood when the bell rang and cut their time short, so instead he offered this: “I really meant it when I said I was good with math and stuff. If you ever get lost or need some help… y’know. We can plan a study date or something. Wait, no- I didn't mean…! O-obviously not like a  _ date _ date, I just-"

She rolled her eyes and repressed an endeared grin as she reached up to slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up and get to class,” she deadpanned, locking eyes with him with a wry smile. 

He offered the tiniest of nods, and she lowered her hand only for his sheepish grin and flushed face to attempt a yank on one of her sturdy heartstrings. She didn’t allow herself to look at him long before turning on her heel to go to her own class. It probably wouldn’t make a very good impression to be late on her first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are much appreciating; it helps keep me motivated. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently Audrey had thought about coming back to the bar after all. Varian couldn’t help but feel a bit proud when he noticed her walk in for the second time. Even with a hood pulled up over her head to shield her from the light rain outside he could recognize her easily, just from her size alone. Just as he began to wave to her, he caught Eugene smirking and offering a thumbs-up in his periphery. Whether the gesture was mocking or genuinely supportive was left undecided, but Varian didn’t respond to it either way.

“Hey!” he greeted, only to clear his throat to try and disguise his own enthusiasm.  _ Pump the breaks, Varian _ , he chastised himself silently. “I uh- I mean, I thought you said bars weren’t your thing. What made you change your mind?”

“My dorm mates throwing a party, that's what,” she answered dismally, unzipping her hoodie and draping it over a stool to dry while she occupied the one adjacent to it. “I had to get away somehow… so, is it usually dead like this when it rains?”

“Eh, hit or miss,” he replied with a shrug. “Gives me a chance to play around a bit though.”

She raised an intrigued brow, leaning forward and crossing her arms over the bar. “Let me guess: more of your ‘concoctions,’ right?”

Varian managed not to back up at her sudden closeness, and instead held her gaze steady. He mirrored her slyness, crossing his arms as if to stand up against a proposed challenge. “In a manner of speaking. Why? Interested?”

“I don’t usually drink,” she admitted, her eyes wandering warily to the shelves behind him, all displaying a wide variety of various, colorful liquors. A menagerie, as he'd put it on her first visit. “But I guess I am curious. I’ve only ever had the most basic stuff. Rum and coke, vodka sprite… that kinda stuff.”

“Oh,  _ please _ ,” he dismissed with a throaty chuckle, waving his hand as if to swat a fly. “That’s child’s play compared to what I can mix up. I’ll prove it too.” 

He didn’t give her a chance to decline, already turning his back to scan his options on the shelves and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Hmm… what would she like? Probably something sweet and easy on the palette, since she supposedly wasn’t a big drinker. She probably didn’t have the tolerance for anything too strong either. 

“Got it,” he chirped as he gathered up his ingredients of choice. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you for this first round.” He winked at her playfully, but she just scoffed and rolled her eyes, failing to hide an amused smirk of her own. The fact that she apparently couldn’t help smiling prompted him to nibble eagerly at his lip before turning to his new project. 

She watched him work, mixing, pouring, shaking, and pouring again. It was kind of like watching a mad scientist at work; all that was missing were beakers instead of mixing tumblers and test tubes instead of glasses. Once he was finally satisfied, he poured the drink into two glasses, the amount evenly distributed between them. It was a light, minty green, and he polished it off with a dash of grenadine syrup that sank to the bottom in a subtle gradient. He popped a cherry onto hers just before handing it to her, but refrained from doing so to his own.

“A little too frilly for me,” he explained teasingly, then held his glass up for a casual toast.

She glanced at the cherry before plucking it off the top and setting it down on a napkin she'd claimed from the nearby dispenser. “Not a fan of maraschinos,” she taunted back, then tapped her glass against his. “So, cheers to…?”

“Uh… world peace?” he asked sarcastically, grabbing a little stir straw to swivel around his cocktail now that the grenadine was for flavor and not flourish. “Who cares? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalling.”

“You wish.” As if to spite him, she took a generous sip from her glass, and he eagerly gauged her opinion just through the subtle phases of her expression. A little tart at first, but with a smooth, sweet finish. She couldn’t help it, smiling at him gingerly and idly stirring her own glass in a silent admission of defeat.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he prodded, unable to resist showing off his gap tooth in a proud grin.

As usual, his endearing smile melted any resolve she had left. “Ugh,  _ fine. _ It’s really good. What is it, vodka?”

“Tequila,” he corrected with a chastising click of his tongue.

“Whatever. You win: you’re really a whiz with this kind of stuff, huh?”

“‘Whiz’ implies that some kind of magic is involved,” he drawled with a slow roll of his hand in the air. “In a way, this is like a science all on its own. And like I said, that’s,  _ heh… _ kinda my specialty.”

“I thought your specialty was knocking yourself out of your chair on the first day of classes,” she bickered back good-naturedly, taking another drink from her glass. “How’s your back by the way?”

“ _ Hah-hah _ . Very funny.” His facade cracked a bit, along with his voice, and he swallowed down a small mouthful of his drink before he could manage to say anything else stupid. They were quiet for a moment, but more comfortably than the silence between them tended to be. Occasionally he’d look up from the contents of his glass to watch her gaze into hers, poking at slowly melting ice cubes with her narrow, black straw. “Another round?”

She snorted out a dismal laugh, pushing the glass gently back to his side of the bar. “What makes you think I’ve got the money to blow on getting wasted?”

“Nobody said anything about getting wasted,” he retorted, almost curious as to whether or not he should feel offended. It wasn’t like he was trying to get her drunk. He just wanted to show off a bit, maybe impress her… maybe keep her around a little bit longer. She couldn’t know that though. “I-I dunno, you just… always seem so tense. I thought maybe you came out to try and relax a bit.” He didn’t even realize how true that was until he said it out loud. "And I thought maybe I could help."

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked at him in surprise. “Tense?” she asked simply, but his skeptical look made it evident she wasn’t very good at playing dumb. “Haven’t you ever heard of resting bitch face?”

“I’ve seen my share,” he assured her dryly, attempting an encouraging smile. “And it’s not the same. If you decide you  _ do _ want another drink, don’t worry. I got it. It’s only fair if you’re gonna be my guinea pig, after all.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” she laughed suddenly, grateful just to have the direction of conversation change, even if only by a few degrees. “I get it now. I’m getting the 'first draft' versions then.” Her smile faltered as she stared thoughtfully at her empty glass. She couldn’t say she didn’t like the warmth his little elixir had conjured in her stomach, but maybe that wasn’t just from the alcohol. “Ah, hell with it. I guess I owe you for keeping me caught up in algebra. Damn ‘imaginary numbers’ or whatever nonsense. When I want something  _ imaginary _ , I'll go unicorn hunting.”

The snort of amusement he let slip was less than flattering, but he was happy to oblige nonetheless. It wasn’t often that he got to flex his skills a little bit and experiment with different combinations, and he got bored making the same old drinks every night. About five experimental shots in, she’d turned her nose up at only one of them. They were all pretty weak as far as he was concerned, or maybe working at the bar had just boosted his tolerance more than he’d thought. Either way, he felt as lucid as ever.

On the other hand, her cheeks were looking a little flushed, and her eyes had a slightly sleepy haze to them. It wasn’t too terrible yet, at least as far as he could tell. She wasn’t slurring or anything, but she was definitely looser. Less stiff, less guarded. They’d been chatting throughout the duration of their mutual experiment, but for the first time in a good moment, he fell quiet.

Up until that point they’d discussed only the most mundane topics: classes, his work, things like that. Hell, they’d even had a brief exchange about the  _ weather _ . It didn’t get much more inconsequential than that. One thing was obvious though: she was avoiding saying much about herself. Although he didn’t necessarily want to take advantage of the circumstances, his curiosity got the better of him. Now that she was a little more relaxed, maybe she’d answer him straight rather than deflect and dismiss like she’d managed to do at every turn.

“So…” He trailed off, his mirthful attitude wavering a bit as he chose his words carefully. “I take it you’re not exactly close to your dorm mates, and I’m  _ assuming _ that’s who you were in with last time. Right?” She nodded, her expression blandly expectant, as if asking him to get on with it. “Then why did you come with them at all? You obviously didn’t want to be here.”

She sighed pensively, the breath ruffling the outgrown bangs of her pixie cut as they hung slightly in front of her eyes. At first he thought she’d dodge the question again and give some half-baked non-answer, but he’d either worn her down, or she was just buzzed enough not to care. “They talked me into it. Since I’m new in town, or whatever, they wanted to ‘show me the sights.' But most of the sights are bars, so I wasn’t super on board with their little bonding exercise. Then it quickly went from getting a tour to babysitting a bunch of drunk sorority girls.”

Finally, he felt like he was getting somewhere. “Definitely not an ideal evening," he agreed with a sympathetic chuckle. He saw another opening though, so he spoke up again while he had his chance. "New in town, huh? Where from?”

“Chicago.” Her tone was blunt, those three syllables hanging heavily in the air for some reason. Now she was staring into her glass, empty once again; this time Varian didn’t offer to refill it.

“Really?” He was genuinely confused; why would she move all the way out from the big city to go to a community college in a modest little town like his? Surely the schools up there were a lot nicer. Ah: and probably a lot  _ pricier _ too. “I get it. Tuition here is cheaper, right? Smart.”

She shrank in her seat a bit, crossing her arms over the bartop again and hiding the bottom half of her face behind them. “Good guess, but not quite.” His silence and soft, pleading stare made her huff, her eyes narrowing a bit. “My parents are pretty well off, so money wasn’t the problem.”

At this point, he thought it best not to press further. Of course he wanted to know, but for the time being he refrained from asking what exactly the problem  _ was _ . Apparently he’d struck a nerve though. Despite him backing off, she continued, almost as if talking to herself rather than him.

“My parents told me I need to ‘ _ learn responsibility _ ’ and become a ‘ _ respectable adult _ ,'" she elaborated, making dramatic air quotes with her fingers. "So they gave me an ultimatum: get shipped off here and get some kind of education, or get cut off for good.” She shrugged, and it was suddenly clear that she was avoiding his eyes, her brows knitting together bitterly. “I’m not stupid though. They’d just had enough.”

“Had enough...?” he murmured, genuinely puzzled. Was she really that distant with her family? Sure, he and his dad weren’t exactly the  _ closest _ they could be, but… 

“Speaking of which,” she cut in before he could question her further, “I think  _ I’ve _ had enough.” She offered a weak, breathless chuckle, sitting up straighter all of a sudden. At first he thought she was referring to their little heart to heart, but the way she pushed her glass away made it clear her words had more than one meaning. “Isn’t it about time to close up? I should… yeah. I should head home. It’s late.”

“Wait,” he interrupted just as she started to stand. Surprisingly, she actually heeded his request. “You’re kind of…  _ not _ sober. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home by yourself. You drove out here, right?”

She nodded, slipping her hoodie on and dipping her hands into its pockets, her posture slightly slouched. “I’ll be okay. It's not very far.”

“The roads are slick,” he argued gently. “Just give me twenty minutes. I’ll clean up a bit and see if Eugene and Rapunzel can finish without me. Then I can get you home." A long pause passed, quiet and tense. "Please?”

There was an ounce of shame in her eyes as she met his, her lips pursing in a frown. There was a reason she didn’t drink often. Several, actually. “... Fine. Twenty minutes, then I'm gone. With or without you.”

That was a relief; at least she was giving him a chance. One thing he’d learned even after only a short period of knowing her was that she was stubborn. At least, when she wasn’t half-drunk, apparently. “Okay, good. Just hang tight, I’m gonna go ask them.”

As expected, the two were willing to do him a solid. Although Eugene complained a little and insisted that Varian “totally owed him one” for being his wingman, Rapunzel dismissed her fiance easily and told Varian not to worry about it. She didn't even want him to waste any time cleaning 

“We’ve got it covered. Just make sure your friend gets home safe, okay?”

That was an easy promise to make. He was still sober, and a more than competent driver, even if he didn’t have a car himself. Getting around on foot or by bus suited him just fine. It’d be an easy enough task: just drop her off at her dormitory, then make the short walk back to his own. Simple.

By the time he came back to the bar, she’d already started to slump against it, her head resting in her arms. Messy locks of fine, coffee-colored hair slightly obscured the view of her face, but the steady rise and fall of her shoulders made it clear she’d dozed off. It was hard not to smile in both amusement and fondness. She must’ve been quite a lightweight. He hung up his apron behind the bar and rejoined her, this time on the patron’s side.

“Hey… c’mon, it’s time to go.” He nudged her gently, jolting her awake. The sudden movement nearly sent her sliding off the stool and onto the floor, but he managed to catch her before she fell. He righted her on her feet, but kept a steady hand on her bicep as she wobbled a bit. Okay. A  _ major _ lightweight. It seemed to all be hitting her at once. “You okay?”

Despite furrowing her brows and rubbing her temple, she nodded. “Yeah… just wanna go to bed,” she told him plainly, then surprised him by grasping his hand. It was as if she was giving him permission (no,  _ asking _ him) to take the lead. She fished around in her hoodie pocket and relinquished her car keys, letting them clink unceremoniously into his outstretched palm.

After saying his goodbyes to his coworkers for the evening and thanking them for the favor, Varian helped her out to her car. It was the only one left in the lot, aside from his coworkers’. Rain still pattered down, a bit heavier than before, and rippled in gradually expanding puddles. He was quickly becoming more and more glad that he’d convinced her not to drive. After guiding her into the passenger seat, he shut the door and circled around to the driver’s side. It took a lot of seat adjustments to accommodate his long legs, but once he was comfortably in place, he inserted the key and started up the engine.

It was a good thing he knew the campus like the back of his hand and didn’t need any directions; she seemed to drift off every few moments, but the occasional start, stop, or turn of the car would jar her awake. Certain that she wouldn’t even be listening, whether she was awake or not, he found himself thinking out loud, as he often did. 

“Good thing I’m driving you home instead of just escorting you,” he chuckled under his breath. “I’d probably make a pretty lousy bodyguard. I mean… I make a pretty lousy  _ anything _ , so-”

He was slowing to a stop at a red light when she surprised him, snatching one of his hands off the steering wheel. She tugged him close to her, nearly nose to nose and practically forcing him to look her in the eyes. Not that he  _ needed _ to be forced to do so. There was still a bit of a glaze over her expression, yet an odd kind of clarity as well. He gulped, heat rushing to his face as his imagination got away from him. They were nearly close enough to-

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled with an almost ironic amount of sobriety, her brows pinched in a look he might’ve called pained. It was as if she was speaking from experience; no, she  _ definitely _ was. Before he could stutter out a reply, his throat still tight and dry, her serious expression softened to something that was borderline… sweet. “The light’s green.”

Even after she’d released him he didn’t immediately move. At least there was nobody behind him to impatiently blare their horn as he found himself momentarily frozen in place. That was almost too real. It wasn’t like her, but he decided to try and take that advice to heart. He had to physically shake off his mild shock, straightening back up and putting his foot on the gas again.

They were both quiet until he got to the girls' dormitory. His errand was almost over, and it was honestly kind of bittersweet. Of course he was tired himself, and a lot of emotions were mingling and meshing in his head and his chest, but he kind of liked this side of her. A little more open, a little less… scared. Or was that even the right word for it? 

There was no point pondering it at the moment. He still had to get her up to her room. Couldn’t risk her taking a bad step on one of those flights of stairs. He was practically shouldering her as they walked into the main lobby, and once again he tried to reconfirm his certainty that the drinks he’d made her hadn’t been  _ that _ strong. Then again, he hadn’t taken into account the factors of her metabolism and body chemistry versus his own. 

“Ooookay,” he began, looking to the staircase, and then to her. “Which floor are you on? What room?”

She held up two fingers, then one, then three. Room two thirteen? At least it was only the second floor, so he wouldn't have to carry her far. It wasn’t like she was particularly heavy, and he wasn’t a total weakling despite his spindly stature. She was just… really close. And warm, and soft, and he couldn’t help feeling like a creep. He’d gotten her drunk, even if by accident, so the least he could do was get her safely in bed, and as respectfully as possible. It just wasn’t easy to feel "respectful" when she was leaning into him like that, and with his arm looped snugly around her waist.

When he finally reached her room, he immediately felt foolish when he went for the doorknob only to find it locked. Of course it would be. He checked her keyring, and luckily there were only two: the one to her car, and the one to her room. That made things easy. So he unlocked the door, nudged it open, and tugged her along before depositing her carefully onto her bed. He hadn’t turned on the light for fear of disturbing a potential roommate, but it appeared to be a single's room. Good.

He exhaled deeply before readjusting her in bed to make sure she’d be safe and comfortable. Slipping off her sneakers, propping her head up with pillows, and taking a moment to tug a blanket up over her. One pro to it being dark: he wasn’t tempted to linger and admire her sleeping face.

An immediate con was the fact that he couldn’t see  _ anything else. _ He turned on his heel quickly to leave her keys and make his escape, only to ram his hip into the desk that apparently doubled as a bedside table. He squawked in pain, cursing and clumsily fumbling to the floor with a breathless grunt and a dully resounding _ thud _ . Any hopes of creeping away without incident were thoroughly dashed.

She didn’t sit up in bed, barely even shifted. Nevertheless, he heard her moan sleepily, just barely disturbed by the commotion he’d caused. “Varian…?” she murmured, sounding dazed and groggy. “S’that you?”

As much as he wanted to sneak out without causing anymore damage than he already had, he didn’t want to risk worrying her with silence either. “Y-yeah,” he grunted, seething a bit as he used the desk as leverage and got to his feet, then set the keys down as he'd originally intended to do. “It’s me. You’re home, so just try to get some-”

“Thanks for being my friend.”

He stopped short, any words dissolving to nothing on his tongue. Thanks for… what? Maybe she just meant specifically for getting her home. Either way, her words struck him in a way he wished they hadn’t. They  _ were _ friends.  _ Just _ friends. Obviously he didn’t want to be  _ that  _ guy, but… he couldn’t deny that it stung.

He also couldn’t bring himself to respond to her gratitude, at least not directly. “Goodnight, Audrey.” His words were soft and calm, but undeniably somber. “Sleep well.”

The one thing he could be thankful for was that the storm had finally let up. Not that he really would've minded, since his own dormitory was just a short walk away, but a trudge through the rain after  _ that  _ would’ve felt a bit too melodramatic for his tastes. Instead the clouds had cleared up more or less, revealing an inky sky full of stars. He gazed up at it for the briefest of seconds before puffing out a short sigh and starting on his way home.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time he saw her, Varian had to wonder if she'd remembered their exchange from the other night, or even the fact that he'd taken her home. Things seemed almost too normal, but maybe that was for the best. Even if she  _ did _ remember, she clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he played along and pretended nothing had happened, for her sake.

He only brought up her previous visit to the bar as they started packing up to leave class one day. It had been almost two weeks, but he still couldn't get their conversation out of his mind.  _ Thanks for being my friend. _ He couldn't help but wonder if that meant he was her  _ only _ friend. If nothing else, he felt convinced of one thing: she still hadn't gotten a real tour of the town. Before she could walk away and leave him behind in the small lecture hall, he cleared his throat to get her attention. It was worth a shot.

"So, hey… I'm not working tonight, and I-I'm all caught up on my assignments," he began, not quite meeting her eyes and twitching his fingers around in his pockets. "I figured if you're free, maybe I could show you around town. Properly, I mean. Not just around the local bars."

He'd been entirely prepared for a polite excuse, or even just a blatant rejection. That's not what he got. She didn't immediately answer him, which was  _ probably _ a good sign. Maybe? 

A good sign for  _ him _ anyway; for her, it just meant that maybe she wasn't as smart as she'd thought. Not if she was actually considering the risk of getting any closer to him. After tucking a bit of stray fringe behind her ear, only for it to fall back into place in front of her eye, she shrugged. "You're sure you don't have anything better to do?"

Varian beamed down at her as he swung his backpack over one shoulder. "Better than helping out a friend?" he asked with a gentle laugh. "'Course not. We-... we  _ are  _ friends, right?"

Her eyes widened as she blinked up at him, her lips parting a bit. It was the closest they’d gotten to addressing all she’d said while not in her right mind. His chest tightened with anticipation, but when she smiled it made all his tension melt away in a heartbeat.

“I’d say so.”

He couldn’t help the pitched little laugh that escaped him, and he rocked idly on his heels while he pretended to watch their classmates file out of the room. “Cool,” he blurted out in a higher tone than he’d intended, then cleared his throat as he started to make his exit. “I mean… that’s a yes, right?” He paused just long enough to see her nod over his shoulder, then started down the stairs. 

“Uh, Varian?” she began pointedly, crossing her arms and smiling in amusement as he looked back at her like a deer in headlights. “Shouldn’t you at least give me your number? How else are we supposed to meet up?”

His jaw actually dropped a bit. She’d asked him for his number… sort of. And maybe not for the traditional reason, but still! He snatched his phone from his pocket so fast that he nearly dropped it, juggling it clumsily for a second or two before chuckling sheepishly. “Ah, yeah… right. Good point.”

Once she had his number punched into her phone, she shot him a text so he’d have hers as well. Before he could object, she’d also raised her phone to point her camera at him and snap a photo for his page in her contacts. She snickered once she looked at the candid picture properly, then turned the screen towards him. It definitely wasn’t a glamour shot by any means, and he pouted at her.

“Couldn’t you have warned me first?” he whined, then squinted a bit at the screen just as she was pulling it away. “Hey! Did that say Square-ian?”

“No take-backs,” she hummed triumphantly, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “Good luck trying to find a pun for Audrey, by the way. Y’know, in case you were thinking of evening the score.”

“ _ Hah, _ well, for your information,  _ I’m _ not petty like that,” he snarked with a little roll of his eyes. He’d totally think of something though.

“Whatever you say,  _ Square-ian _ ,” she drawled cheekily as she brushed past him to jog towards the exit. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna let you make me late again. Text me later, okay?”

He didn’t even get a chance to tell her that he would before she disappeared through the door. All he could do was try to ignore the flitting sensation in his chest and the little twist in the pit of his stomach. He knew there was no point in getting so giddy or letting his hopes get too high, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic, or maybe he was just dumb. Either way, he let himself pretend he might have a shot.

The rest of the day dragged on, but he managed to keep his head where it needed to be and focus on school. It was easier said than done, his foot bouncing impatiently. For better or worse, his last class had gotten cancelled due to a mix-up on the schedule, and Varian was as eager as he was daunted by having an hour less to mentally prepare himself. He typed at least two different messages before deleting them and settling on something brief and casual: “done for the day.” Perfect. Nice and aloof. Eugene would’ve been proud.

Speaking of Eugene, maybe he could help. 

As if on cue, Audrey messaged back to say that she still had a couple of classes left, and that she’d tell him when she was out. It was almost too perfect: that gave him more than enough time to head out to the bar before it opened and get some hands-on assistance from the local heartthrob himself. A brisk jog and a couple of bus stops later, Varian was unlocking the entrance to the bar and poking his head in. 

Sure enough, Eugene had gone in through the back and was already behind the bar to get prepped for the night. “Hey, kid,” he began, seeming pleasantly surprised. “I thought you were off tonight.”

“I am,” Varian confirmed, letting the door swing shut behind him. “I’m here on personal business.” He claimed a stool at the bar, only to realize how odd it felt to be on this side of it for once. “I need some advice."

Eugene gave him a knowing glance, pausing in his current task of slicing limes for cocktails. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Shorty, would it?”

“What? No! Shorty’s not even allowed back in here after-”

“Not  _ that _ Shorty!” Eugene groaned, visibly exasperated. “I meant the  _ girl. _ Abbie or whatever.”

“Audrey,” Varian corrected snappily, waving his hand as if to brush away anything else that might try to get him sidetracked. “But yeah, it’s-... it’s about her.”

Eugene chuckled placatingly, propping an elbow on the bar to lean sideways against it. “Figured. You really like her, huh? Didn’t think you were into the gloomy type.”

“She’s not gloomy,” he argued meekly, if not just to avoid dignifying anything else Eugene had said. “That’s not the point.” He tried to make brief work of filling his mentor in without flat-out gushing over her. Their classes together, the night he’d taken her home, getting her number. Apparently he hadn’t done a very convincing job though.

“I haven’t seen you this giddy since the New Years Eve party,” Eugene teased, fluffing Varian’s hair and making the boy shrink back with an indignant huff. “I don’t see what you need my advice for: you seem to be doing just fine on your own. I  _ guess _ I can teach you the smolder, but-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Varian deadpanned, raising his hand to physically stop Eugene from continuing. “I just-... What if she never thinks of me as anything more than-... th-than her friend? I mean, I  _ like _ being her friend, but how can I-…?” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head and trying to sort his whirling thoughts. “Y’know.  _ Woo _ her?”

To his surprise, Eugene seemed to give this a lot of genuine thought. He wasn’t joking around or laughing him off, like Varian had half-expected. “You want my honest opinion?”

Varian nodded eagerly, looking at Eugene like he was a fountain of wisdom. Debatable as that was, he definitely had more experience with girls. Old flames and broken hearts abounded, and he’d even managed to strike gold with Rapunzel, so he had to have  _ some _ idea of what he was doing. On the other hand, Varian hadn’t so much as  _ kissed _ someone, unless he counted that girl in his third grade class who knocked out one of his baby teeth within the same week. And (call him crazy) he definitely didn’t count that.

“I don’t think you  _ need _ to woo her,” Eugene told him plainly, offering probably the most earnest smile Varian had ever received from him. “If you try too hard, it’ll just push her away. And, no offense, you’re not really the swashbuckling rogue I was at your age. The art of seduction might not be your forte.” Before Varian could manage to look too disheartened or try to argue, Eugene held up a finger to silence him. “ _ But _ , if she’s anything like you say she is, that’s probably not what she wants.”

“Real helpful,” Varian grunted as he let his chin rest against the bar, feeling a bit defeated. “How am I supposed to know what she  _ would _ want?”

“You won’t. And you can’t force her to like you-”

“I-I know that, but-!”

“Let me finish. You can’t force her, so the best thing you can do is to not make her feel pressured. You’re a great kid, so just be yourself.” Varian’s bland pout made it clear what he thought of this so-called “advice,” so Eugene sighed softly and patted his shoulder. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but she obviously sees something in you she likes. Why change anything? Trust me on this one: just let things happen naturally.”

Varian breathed out a steady sigh, then nodded as he stood up and adjusted his glasses on his nose. He thanked Eugene, if half-heartedly, before heading for the door. He didn’t make it far before the bartender whistled for his attention, and Varian turned around quickly, hopeful for some  _ actual _ pointers.

“I’ll give you this little nugget of wisdom, at least,” Eugene laughed good-naturedly. “For the love of God,  _ please _ comb your hair before your little date. I know ‘tired and disillusioned’ is in style right now, but can’t you do it without looking like you just got out of bed?”

Varian responded in as appropriate way as possible: with a particular, apathetic hand gesture involving a very specific finger. “For starters, it’s not-... n-not a date. Secondly, I don’t need fashion advice from the guy who’s had the same goatee since the day I met him.”

“Says the kid who tried to copy said goatee until he figured out he can’t grow facial hair to save his life.”

Despite himself, Varian stifled a laugh as he said his good-nights and left, locking up behind him so no early-bird customers tried to get in before opening time. Once outside, his nerves began creeping back up on him. Why he'd expected someone like Eugene to understand his plight, he wasn’t sure: he’d always had it easy with women. So much for his help. He slouched a bit and thought hard about their conversation, and about Audrey.

He didn’t even reach the bus stop before his phone vibrated in his pocket with a perky little  _ ‘ping. _ ’ That was probably her. Sure enough, she’d texted him back:  _ Finally free. What’s the plan? _

Another long sigh escaped him as he brushed his fringe out of his face and held it back with his palm to better scan the message. Just be himself, huh? Since when had that done him any good? Eugene was probably right though: if he pushed too hard, it would just end up pushing her away entirely. Being friends wouldn’t be so bad, at least. Without thinking too hard about it, he typed out a quick reply and sent it. 

_ Are you hungry? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly wholesome Team Awesome content. I feel like Eugene is always Varian's first go-to for advice. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

When he walked inside the cafe, a little bell above the door signalling his arrival, he wasn’t surprised to find that Audrey had beaten him there. Personal transportation was usually faster than public, after all. Even so, he couldn’t help but worry about how long he might’ve kept her waiting. She’d been scrolling on her phone with her chin resting in her hand and her elbow propped on the tabletop, her eyes looking dull and bored. At least until the ringing of his entrance drew her attention.

The way her expression brightened upon meeting his, even if subtly, made him feel a small swell of hope towards his overall fruitless venture. He grinned and returned her little wave, then crossed the small restaurant in a few long strides to slip into the seat across from her. “Hey, glad you found the place alright. It’s kinda tucked away.”

“Yeah, I nearly passed it even with my GPS,” she admitted, quirking a smile as she raised a half-empty mug in both hands. “Thanks for showing. For a second I was starting to think I’d been stood up.”

Her tone seemed jesting enough, but there was a little twinkle in her eyes that said more than she’d probably wanted to. “Stand you up?” he snorted in disbelief. “That’s rich.”

“Yeah, me and all my womanly charms,” she countered sarcastically. “Nobody can resist a five-foot-tall, walking, talking disaster.”

Disaster? That seemed like a strong word. He didn’t reciprocate her bout of laughter, and instead found himself remembering what she’d said to him that night in her car: “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Their eyes locked after he’d blurted that out, and whatever good-humor she’d maintained drained away. He didn’t allow the awkward silence to last longer than a second. “I-I mean… short is cute.” 

Good save.

At least he wasn’t the only one getting a bit warm in the face, both of them apparently hit with the full force of his impulsive statement in unison. He had half a mind to slap a hand over his own mouth, but that couldn’t take back what he’d said. Maybe he didn’t  _ want _ to take it back, considering the pretty shade of pink she was turning. Rather than saying anything at first, she glanced away and took a careful sip from her mug.

“That’s a new one,” she replied quietly, the smirk she’d attempted falling flat. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never-...  _ that _ . You don’t have to try and flatter me.”

“I’m not,” he defended mildly, his fingers drumming on the tabletop; he went silent as their waitress came around and set a glass of water down for him, then took his order for a cup of coffee. He nodded his thanks to her, and waited until she’d walked away to continue. “I just- I dunno. Everybody has a different…  _ preference _ , I guess. You shouldn’t be so critical of yourself.”

Like he was one to talk, she thought, but decided to leave that topic alone for the time being. Instead, she had to shift things back in her favor, before she could risk getting too flustered. “Preference, huh?” She couldn’t help smirking, looking at him slyly over the rim of her mug. “So, Varian. Enlighten me: what’s  _ your _ preference, exactly?”

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Varian choked on his first sip of water, spluttering and coughing. His hand flew up to cover his mouth (and maybe his burning cheeks) as he tried to recover as gracefully as possible. Lucky for him, their waitress came back to take their lunch orders just in time to save him from any further embarrassment. 

Or so he’d thought. 

The two were quiet for a moment after they’d finished ordering, but Audrey still couldn’t help torturing him a bit. At least this time she had the decency to wait until after he’d finished swallowing his mouthful of coffee to do so. “You never answered my question.”

He twitched and began to fidget uncomfortably in his seat, his hands tapping quickly on the tabletop as if in a drumroll cut short. “Question? Wh-what question?” he asked innocently, his lopsided grin doing little to help his case. “I don’t remember a question.”

“Yeah,” she began, clearly unconvinced by his flimsy charade, “and you nearly shot water out your nose a minute ago just for fun.”

“You can’t prove that I didn’t.”

At first she held her ground, but couldn’t manage it for more than a few seconds before bursting into a quiet laughing fit. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“Well…” He was going to regret asking this. “What about  _ you _ ? What’s  _ your _ preference, huh? Let me guess,” he muttered with a dismissive, flailing gesture of his hand, “you like the bad boy type, right? Motorcycles and leather jackets, that sort of thing?”

Her firm hold on his gaze wavered, and she set her mug down before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. His bold assumption couldn’t have been more wrong; she’d played around with those types before, and it had never ended happily. But… was that what he  _ really _ thought? Then what did that make her? 

Sure, she was no golden child, but...

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she scoffed bitterly, surprised by her own indignance. His goading expression quickly weakened and turned apologetic, maybe even guilty. She sighed and shrugged, her own body language softening as if to try and ease his nerves. “I don’t do ‘ _ types _ .’” 

“Ah, r-right… fair enough.” So much for not pushing, Varian scolded himself. Had he insulted her somehow? And if so, why? “Sorry. For prying, I mean. I know you’re pretty… uh.  _ Private _ , I guess?” That was the nicest way of putting it that he could think of, anyway. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Varian, it’s fine,” she reassured him lightly, stopping him before he could start to full-on ramble. “I started it. If I can’t take it, I shouldn’t dish it out.”

“... You really shouldn’t,” he agreed reluctantly after a moment of consideration. They exchanged sheepish, good-humored smiles and a laugh or two. “On the bright side, I think I figured out what to call you in my contacts.” 

She waited with her brows knitted and her lips pursed dubiously as he pulled his phone out and started to type, his front teeth scraping his bottom lip briefly. Once he was done he shot her a sly smile and showed her his handiwork.

“ _ Glass House _ ?” she asked with bemused skepticism.

“Y’know what they say about throwing stones,” he replied with an easygoing shrug, feeling rather proud of himself. “It’s not a  _ pun _ per se, but it still fits. At least it’s more creative than  _ Square-ian _ .”

She didn’t argue against his point, just shook her head lightly and fought the smile pulling at her lips. When their food arrived, any and all tension had dissipated from the air, and they ate in relative quiet. Pausing between spoonfuls of her soup, Audrey finally spoke up again. “So, how about that ‘proper tour?’ I bet you have a whole itinerary planned.”

“You could say that,” he chuckled in a vague admission of guilt. “Do you like aquariums?” 

* * *

“I hope you realize that this is only like… one,  _ maybe _ two steps down from the library on the ‘ _ Nerd's-First-Date _ ’ scale,” Audrey teased as the two of them entered the building side-by-side. If she was honest, though, she’d never actually been to an aquarium, and maybe she was a little excited. That didn’t mean she’d go easy on him. “You know that, right?”

Varian spluttered and stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. “Uh, for your information, this is  _ not _ my first date.” By no means was he a seasoned expert on the subject either. He realized a second too late the implication of what he’d said, or rather, what he  _ hadn’t _ said. “B-besides! This isn’t even a date. So-…  _ so there _ .”

“I still stand by what I said,” she replied casually, starting to walk down the corridor without him. “So, you coming or not?”

He replied simply by hurrying to catch up, and he couldn’t help uttering a sheepish, defeated laugh once he was at her side again. “So… maybe I did have the library in mind too,” he admitted, ruffling his bangs with one hand and keeping the other tucked in his pocket. “In my defense, it is pretty nice.”

“Well now I  _ have  _ to see it,” she drawled with a playful roll of her eyes.

Whether she was joking or not, his stupid heart skipped a beat at the possibility of taking her out again. Well, not…  _ taking _ her out. Going out with her. No, that was worse. Hanging out? Better. “Next time, then,” he agreed with a little nudge to her shoulder, unsure if she was entirely joking or not. “So, anything in particular you want to see first?”

She thought that over for a moment, humming contemplatively under her breath. “Hmm… jellyfish are pretty cool,” she offered vaguely, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Perfect!” He didn’t think twice when he took her hand to lead her down the hall and around the corner to the right. His eagerness was getting the best of him, but she didn’t fight it. “The jellyfish exhibit is one of my favorites.”

Audrey didn’t have the time or opportunity to do anything other than allow herself to be tugged around, nearly having to jog just to keep up with his long legs. “Varian, slow down!” 

He came back to his senses just as they reached the entrance to the exhibit, practically screeching to a halt and tossing an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “Sorry,” he began, pointing with his thumb to the doorway. “I guess I got a little too excited, but-… you’ll see why. Come on.”

He lead her inside the dimly lit passage, the narrow path sloping down a bit before opening up into a circular room with a high ceiling. The only illumination came from the showcases, some of which looked practically neon under the subtle blacklights. If Audrey had any intentions of scolding Varian’s overexuberance, she’d forgotten all about it as her attention was now completely focused on the colorful tanks around her. Some were large, square cases, others built like circular portholes in the wall. The one in the center was a wide tube that stretched from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. 

“Wow,” she murmured as he continued to lead her along, more slowly now. “I didn’t expect there to be so many.”

“Not bad, right?” he asked as they stopped in front of the larger, cylindrical display. “This one’s  _ Chrysaora Hysoscella _ , the compass jellyfish,” he informed her with a pointed finger in the air, only to withdraw it and shrink a little. It’d probably be a good idea to go a few bars lower on the geek spectrum.

Either she hadn’t heard him, or she didn’t feel the need to poke fun at him over his enthusiasm. She was too busy inspecting the frilled, balloon-like creatures floating peacefully through their enclosure. The light cast gentle shadows over her face, glinting off her bright, seafoam eyes. Once again he felt his heart palpitate with a flurry of mixed feeling. 

Only when his hand twitched and tightened around hers did he realize he was still clutching it, her palm soft and cool against his and their fingers gently entwined; he quickly retracted and stuffed it back in his pocket. The empty space left behind brought Audrey back to her senses, and her fingers curled tentatively into a loose fist.

“What’s this one?” she asked suddenly, turning away from him as if that could redirect her thoughts altogether. 

“ _ Pelagia Noctiluca. _ Er, mauve stingers. All those spots are actually stinging cells called-”  _ Cut it out! _ He shook his head, stopping himself short before he could do anything else to make him look like a complete dweeb. 

“Called what?”

He blinked down at her, her gaze expectant and actually…  _ interested _ . He bit his lip to keep his budding grin at bay. “ N-nematocysts,” he answered hesitantly. “Sorry, I uh… I guess I come here too often. It's a good place to get away and think."

She smiled softly, turning her eyes from him to the enclosure once more. “I don’t mind.” She meant it too; against all odds, she enjoyed hearing him babble and seeing him get so excited, even about the smallest things. He was just so open, so much so that it bordered on vulnerability. Not like her at all. 

“They’re really pretty,” she added simply before she could linger on her thoughts too long. “I didn’t know jellyfish could be that color.”

“Ah, c’mon,” he started disbelievingly. “Don’t be modest. I bet the aquariums in Chicago have a  _ way _ bigger variety than this.”

Audrey paused, her arms crossing protectively. “I wouldn’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, staring into the tank just to try and avoid his earnest, questioning gaze. It still pierced her peripherals, and by extension her chest, like a needle. “I never went to any of them.”

“But you lived there your whole life, didn’t you?” She nodded, and he frowned quizzically down at her. “So why didn’t you ever go?”

“Nobody ever took me.” Her tone was flat and inexpressive, doing her utmost to feign apathy. “Nobody ever had time for me. By the time I was able to go by myself, I didn’t really care anymore. Not about aquariums, and… not really about anything else.”

Varian felt a chill fill him at his core, and he had to fight down the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He doubted she would accept such a thing anyway. “I’m sorry.” It sounded stupid coming out of his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Don’t be,” she told him simply, finally turning to look at him now that she was sure she had the fortitude to do so. “It’s not like I’m scarred from never getting to see a seahorse as a kid.”

Varian returned the weak smile she offered in reassurance. It wasn’t about the seahorses though, not about the aquarium, and he knew it. Just like how it wasn’t about any of his failed inventions, but the disappointment they brought out of his dad. After a moment of quiet, he smiled brightly down at her, all too aware of the fluttering swell beneath his ribcage. 

“Thanks.”

She raised a curious brow at him. “For what?”

He shrugged, nudging her softly as a compromise between being playful and casually affectionate. “For talking to me.” Hopefully it wouldn’t be the last time. "It’s what friends are for, right?" 

Her grateful smile said enough, and she surprised him by giving his wrist a little squeeze, since his hand itself was just out of reach. She let go before he could reciprocate, just so she wouldn’t get too carried away. “So… there wouldn’t happen to be a seahorse exhibit, would there?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” he answered, allowing a quirky grin to light up his face and show off a rare glimpse of his dimples. He dipped halfway into a mocking bow, gesturing with both hands to the exit. “Right this way.”

She snorted in amusement, giving his chest a push that nearly threw him off balance. Before he could stumble too much or trip over his feet, she snatched the collar of his hoodie to steady him. His eyes were wide and owlish as they met hers, pulled slightly down to her height. “Come on, you dork.”

He gulped, nodding as she let him go and standing up to his full height. “R-right,” he chuckled breathlessly, one hand fidgeting as it combed his bangs out of his eyes. This time he had more sense than to take her hand, leading her out of the jellyfish room at a leisurely stride. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more bonding time and development. Dialogue has always been one of my favorite things, and I have so much fun writing their back-and-forth dynamic. I hope you enjoyed! Constructive criticism/comments are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually have two versions of this story. One with the reader insert, and one with an OC. I think writing the (Y/N) stuff is kinda difficult, but more accessible to other people to enjoy. If anyone has advice on the matter, I'd appreciate it! 
> 
> I've even considered posting both versions of the story separately. :0
> 
> Edit: after reading and attempting to edit the chapters I've already written to fit the reader insert POV, I decided to just stick with how this fic was originally written. There's backstory and character development that's really important to the progression of their relationship, and switching to an insert perspective would mean losing probably the most integral parts of the story. :(


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